David X Novak
  • Home
  • About
  • Poetry
  • Plays
  • Prose
  • Books
  • News
  • Contact

The Tops of Trees Begin to Turn

10/8/2015

 

​The tops of trees begin to turn
To red, as though about to burn,
While I, aware the coming fall,
Disdain their dressage autumnal.

In them my own demise I see
Now aged and creaky as a tree,
While my gaunt limbs can barely stretch
And sap is gone that used to letch.

'Tis all part of a season: I
Observe and merely wonder why— 
To leaves it is no holocaust
While I am old, and wholy lost.


Comments are closed.
    Picture

    News?

    A new poem is always news to the poet.
    ​Or whatever.

    Archives

    April 2020
    August 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    January 2017
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed